


Cheek Kisses

by Wooingsan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom Choi San, Dom/sub Undertones, Frottage, Hair-pulling, Haircuts, Hairstylist!San, Kissing, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Massage, Popstar!Wooyoung, Sassy Kang Yeosang, Strangers to Lovers, Sub Jung Wooyoung, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23639527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wooingsan/pseuds/Wooingsan
Summary: “Oh, wait. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said, gliding across the black and white tiled floor. “My name is Choi San.” Stopping toe to toe with him, San raised his hands and cupped them under Wooyoung's ears with a light yet firm hold. “And you, darling?”“J-Jung Wooyoung,” he stuttered.“Well, Jung Wooyoung,” San brought his lips to Woo’s left cheek, pressing in a soft kiss. Then his face glided to the other side, warm breath ghosting Wooyoung's cupid’s bow. “I’ll see you soon~” Another quick touch of lips to flushed skin and he was pulling away.ORSan is a hairstylist. Wooyoung learns he likes getting his hair pulled.
Relationships: Choi San & Jung Wooyoung, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 32
Kudos: 366





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fan fic ever!
> 
> I've been reading fics for years, before I even knew K-Pop existed. I'm excited to join in!
> 
> I hope you enjoy! ::cheek kisses::

Wooyoung’s hairdresser has been telling him to go blonde for years. As a pop-icon in Korea, it’s pretty standard to change your hair color at least once per season. But part of the deal when he signed with KQ Entertainment was that they wouldn’t do that to him - that they wouldn’t force him to bleach his hair for each comeback or new MV. He’d seen what had happened to other idols’ hair pre-debut, and he wanted nothing to do with it. When he decided to color his hair, if he EVER decided to, it would be at his own word. 

That’s when he met San. 

He had been at the in-house salon suite waiting for his usual flock of makeup and hair noonas to finish prepping him for the day’s photoshoot. It was painfully early and he was falling asleep in the chair even as his lips searched blindly for the straw of his plastic cold-brew cup. Just as his bottom lip made contact, he heard sudden commotion coming from across the room and glanced up through his droopy lashes. He could see one of the building assistants leading a small group of people through the KQ stylists, squeezing against the swarm that was suddenly magnetized to the entrance. Woo decided not to think much of it, turning his gaze and lips back to the coffee in his hand. 

As the group skirted the edge of the room he heard “...and this is KQ Entertainment’s personal salon room, although I’m sure it’s nothing compared to where you’ve worked before.” 

Just as his tongue finally snaked around the straw to bring it into his mouth, he snuck a glance toward the group only to see a man in a suit kissing Wooyoung’s manager on both cheeks. His mind went blank as he let his eyes give the man a once over. After finishing their journey through the tailored tucks and folds of the suit covering his body, Wooyoung’s eyes travelled back up to his face and settled on the corner of the man’s mouth, which had curled up in an almost invisible smirk. Woo’s eyes flew open as he realized he’d been caught and he jerked his head down, smashing the rigid plastic straw into his gums. 

He let out a high-pitched whine as he covered his mouth with his hand, swiping over the injury with the flat tip of his tongue. The idol sitting in the salon chair next to him reached over to give his back soothing rubs. “What happened? Are you okay?” Hongjoong, he thinks. The cute rapper.

Sucking his gums, Woo huffs. “I’m fine. Who are those people?” he asks, head gesturing to the side without looking. 

“Oh! I overheard the stylists mention they were going to have a workshop with a bunch of professionals who had studied in Europe. I guess that’s them. I didn’t think they would actually kiss people’s cheeks though.” Hongjoong was still rubbing circles into his back, eyes wide as he looked at the small group now leaving through the opposite door. Not used to being touched, Wooyoung shook off his arm and turned to face the large mirror, running his hand through his hair and catching one last glimpse of the man in the suit before his well-sculpted behind slipped through the closing door. He finally took a sip of his coffee.

During his photoshoot that afternoon he asked the noona retouching his makeup for more information. 

“Noona. I saw a different group of people in the building today. Were they other stylists?”

Her eyes immediately lit up and she withdrew the hand that was tap-tapping powder onto his face. “Yes! Did you see them up close? They were amazing! Our company invited them to do a workshop on some foreign techniques. They all studied overseas - in Paris and Milan I think? They were amazing!”

“Oh? Would I have heard of any of them?”

“The man in the sweater was Park Seonghwa, and the blonde with the leather jacket was Choi Jongho. The one in the suit was Choi San. They were so cool, and soooo beautiful. I can’t believe they do their own hair and makeup!” 

Wooyoung studied her for a second before looking pointedly at the puff in her still hand. 

“Ah! Sorry!” she apologized as she moved back to tapping onto his jaw. 

By the end of the day, Wooyoung’s manager had found a copy of Choi San’s business card. 

.:.:.:.

That’s how he found himself having a staring contest with a receptionist through the windows of Salon Song the next week.

Admitting his loss, Wooyoung stepped through the shiny glass door and came face to face with his opponent. The nameplate on the front desk read ‘Kang Yeosang’. He straightened his shoulders and started to say “I’m Jung-” 

“I know who you are. But what are you doing here? You don’t have an appointment.” For a moment, they resumed their staring contest.

“I’m here to see Choi San.”

“Choi San doesn’t take walk-ins.”

“I’ll wait,” Wooyoung states, seating himself among the plush black cushions on the waiting area’s couch. Kang Yeosang says nothing, just gives him a level glare and taps something onto an iPad. Two minutes later he brings out a tray with a small, steaming teapot and a basket of herbal sachets. 

He only has time to start combing his fingers through the bags before he hears, “Okay~ see you again soon~ take care of that fresh color~ ciao darling” and looks up to see Choi San dipping in to kiss one cheek, then the other, of a young blonde woman. She blushes and gathers herself before handing her card across the front desk. As he’s turning his back, San happens to glance over at the waiting area. His eyebrows shoot straight up.

“Oh, hello~ I remember you. For what reason do we owe this special visit?” San bows, slight smile playing across his lips. Wooyoung, fingers still dug in the pile of tea sachets, can only stare. Was that streak in Choi San’s hair there before? 

_Why did it look so good?_

Kang Yeosang coughed aggressively and Wooyoung was shaken from his reverie. Standing quickly, Woo returned the short bow. 

“I want a consultation.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t take walk-ins,” San soothed, voice like honey.

“That’s what I said,” Kang Yeosang muttered, assessing his nail beds.

“Why don’t you set up a time to come back? Yeosang will be more than happy to help you out. Yeosang, give this man my first available time slot.” The receptionist scoffed.

“Oh, wait. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said, gliding across the black and white tiled floor, “My name is Choi San.” Stopping toe to toe with him, San raised his hands and cupped them under Woo's ears with a light yet firm hold, “And you, darling?”

“J-Jung Wooyoung,” he stuttered. 

“Well, Jung Wooyoung,” San brought his lips to Woo’s left cheek, pressing in a soft kiss. Then his face glided to the other side, warm breath ghosting Woo’s cupid’s bow. “I’ll see you soon~” Another quick touch of lips to flushed skin and he was pulling away. 

Yeosang told him to come back on Tuesday.

.:.:.:.

Wooyoung likes San because he always gives cheek kisses, and because he doesn’t try to make excruciatingly polite conversation like most hairstylists do. 

He knows this is just something San picked up while studying in Europe, but as a Korean pop-icon he can’t often accept physical displays of affection from other people without the paparazzi all over him. San always spends more than enough time with him, never making him feel rushed, but never doing a lot of talking either. Despite the brief cheek kisses, he has always been very professional. 

One day, after a few months of regular visits, a tall, strawberry-haired man stops in front of them while San is leading him back through the rows of chairs and mirrors.

“Ah! Mingi-ssi!” San jumps into the man’s arms, instantly slathering his cheeks with fluffy kisses. Strawberry man grins an open mouthed smile and leans back from the weight of San’s attack. “Hi, San,” he chuckles. “Long time no see. The Singapore conference wasn’t nearly as fun without you around this year.” He winks.

Wooyoung shifts his weight from foot to foot. San seems to remember his client, running back and sweeping Wooyoung along with his right hand pressed between his shoulder blades. 

“Wooyoung-ssi, meet Song Mingi. He owns this salon, it was named after him. Mingi-ssi, meet Jung Wooyoung. He’s our resident pop-star, but you already knew that,” San giggles.

_What’s that supposed to mean?_

“Hi, Wooyoung-ssi. I’m pleased to finally make your acquaintance. How has your experience been at Salon Song so far? Is Choi San here treating you well?” Wooyoung shakes Mingi’s outstretched hand. Wasn’t there something he wanted to bring up? Oh, yeah. 

“The receptionist is a little rude, but other than that I have no complaints.”

Mingi and San both pause to catch their breath before flinging their heads back and bursting into laughter. After a second San doubles over while Mingi clutches his stomach and tries to breath out.. “Ah, well, that’s part of his charm. I’m glad he’s doing his job well.” 

San gathers himself enough to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes and puts a warm hand on Wooyoung’s shoulder. 

“Our Wooyoung-ssi can be so serious sometimes, Mingi-ssi,” Wooyoung bristles under his touch, so San pulls him against his side, “but I’m working on it.” 

“Just give him a good massage when you wash his hair, San. That’ll loosen him up.” 

Wooyoung becomes very aware of the heat emanating from San’s side, and the hand that was on his shoulder moving to card through the hair at the base of his neck. 

“You know Wooyoung-ssi, San is very popular with clients. He has been asked to become an exclusive stylist for many actors and musicians. He was good before, but after studying abroad everyone wants him. Lucky for me, he never says yes. He tells me it’s because he likes the exposure of practicing the diverse requests of our many clients, but I think he just loves me too much to leave,” Mingi smiles. 

San hums in agreement, eyes squinching up in a smile. 

“Let’s get started, hmm, Wooyoung-ssi~” San purrs, fingers slipping from his hair to guide against his lower back. 

When Wooyoung turns around to tell Mingi it was nice to meet him, he sees his gaze settled on San’s hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciao for now, darlings~ ::cheek kisses::
> 
> You can also find the threadfic version of this story on my new Ateez Twitter account!
> 
> Twitter: [@wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooyoung gets more haircuts, and a massage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allow me to introduce: Hair-Pulling
> 
> Also some steamy...steam?
> 
> Meanwhile, Yeosang cops a 'tude and San shares his concern for Wooyoung's health.

San usually starts by cutting Wooyoung’s hair first and washing it after. For the past few visits, San has mentioned while trimming how good Woo would look as a blonde. “You’ve never dyed your hair before? Sometime, if you really want to make a statement, you should go blonde. Platinum even, darling~ And when you do, you come to me. Don’t trust your hair to those KQ noonas. They’re fine, but they do it too often to too many people, and they forget what it means to treat someone’s hair with the care it deserves.” 

Wooyoung keeps telling him he isn’t planning on it. 

But today San didn’t bring it up, and it seemed like he still had a smile playing on his lips from talking to Mingi earlier. 

Wooyoung liked that San didn’t make any small talk, but he didn’t like not receiving any attention either. Getting bored, Wooyoung decides to pull out his phone. He starts flicking through his notifications and hears a small sound behind him. Just as he opens Twitter, San’s fingers come up to hold his chin.

“Head straight please~”

Stunned, Woo looks in the mirror at San’s unchanging smile. He decides to bring his phone up to almost eye level so he can keep checking his socials. A few flicks of the thumb later, he feels a slight tugging on his roots before it’s gone again.

_Oh?_

Wooyoung sits stock still, watching San work in the reflection of the mirror. San hums quietly, expression resolute. Woo decides to experiment. Without looking away from the mirror, Wooyoung again lifts his phone to eye level. The back of San’s hand is instantly against his neck, fingers lacing through the strands and pulling them hard while Woo chokes on a gasp. San holds his fist a second longer, only then releasing. Before the strands can even fall, his fingers snap together and yank gently one more time. 

San steps back and returns his scissors to his workstation, thin smirk ever-present. “Let’s get you washed up, shall we~” San trills.

He releases the pressure the chair, seat sinking slowly so Woo's feet can touch the ground again. As he stands, San’s hand returns to it’s former resting place on Woo’s lower back, guiding him towards the separate sink area of the salon. Wooyoung usually doesn’t enjoy this part. No matter how comfortable the chairs or how upscale the salon, there’s something about stretching his neck back over the plastic rim of a washing tub that he finds immensely uncomfortable. After watching him squirm through this portion of the appointment over their past visits, San seems to have figured that out and always makes the wash as quick and painless as possible. 

As Wooyoung leans back against the already warm sink, he stares at the crystal chandelier overhead. He can hear San’s small humming and the clinking of bottles behind him when the water turns on. He closes his eyes as it heats up and steam starts to billow around his temples. San takes the gushing water nozzle in one hand and gently slides his fingers between Wooyoung’s strands in the other. 

“How’s the temperature?” 

Wooyoung still squirms a little, but replies, “It’s fine”. San hums and raises the nozzle to his hairline. After it becomes thoroughly wet, San turns the water off. Wooyoung knew this meant San was preparing to lather him up with some cherry-blossom scented shampoo. He didn’t know what was special about it, but it was the one San always picked for him. Yet, this time, when San’s fingers began to swirl into his locks he didn’t smell anything floral - but something sweet and spicy instead. His nostrils flared as San’s deft fingertips moved to circle at the nape of his neck.

_Ginger...and vanilla?_

Distracted by trying to identify the new scents, San moved to begin kneading the pressure points in his neck. Wooyoung’s body quickly tensed in response. In return, San slid his fingers up to caress the juncture directly underneath his ears. A few minutes later Woo’s body was reacting on it’s own, relaxing his muscles, head growing heavier in San’s hands. 

Exhaling, Woo felt San drift back down to his neck, trying to knead into his pressure points once again. This time, Wooyoung’s body had the opposite reaction. Rather than tensing up, he felt himself melting. Mind fogging over with the copious steam and gathering bubbles, Wooyoung let his head fully drop into one of San’s palms. Cupping his neck with one hand, San brought the other up to work the rest of the product through his roots. 

“...ay?”

Wooyoung’s eyelids fluttered in recognition of the words being spoken to him, but he fell even deeper into his hazy headspace when he felt water droplets roll down his eyebrows as San tilted him up. He thought he heard another buzz of words as the pads of San’s fingers came back to softly tease into the sides of his neck. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but he realized this was a lot longer than they had ever spent washing his hair before.

_“Just give him a good massage while you wash his hair, San. That’ll loosen him up.”_

The memory was enough to unglue his eyelids. Wooyoung realized that he was panting only as his eyes found San’s. 

San’s gaze was almost predatory, lips curling even deeper into the normal smirk he wore. Woo felt his panting quicken, eyes frozen. He briefly wondered if there were other people nearby. He watched San’s pupils narrow just before fingertips curled around to linger lightly on top of his throat. Eyes widening to saucers, Woo was too deep in his headspace to do anything but watch San’s upside down lips part slightly, the spicy scent of ginger choking his nose. Then, those fingertips hesitated before pulsing against his windpipe.

Wooyoung shot up onto the edge of the chair, wet, soapy strands flinging water and bubbles onto the floor in front of him. He felt a pull low in his abdomen and caught sight of himself in a mirror across the room. Eyes wide, cheeks red, hair stuck against his neck and forehead - he looked blissfully wrecked. 

“Let’s rinse out your hair, hmm, darling~”

He didn’t need to see the expression on San’s face. That sing-song voice was enough.

Leaning back slowly, Wooyoung resumed staring at the chandelier on the ceiling as San finished rinsing out the product.

.:.:.:.

When Wooyoung comes for his next trim four weeks later, he arrives at Salon Song an hour early. As he opens the glass door, he is greeted by the light serenade of piano pop-song covers and scent of sweet tea. Kang Yeosang, however, greets him with a scolding, steaming tea set already in hand.

“You’re early.”

“Yes.” Wooyoung moves toward the couch.

“You’re an _hour_ early.” Yeosang presses, dropping the tea tray on the coffee table and crossing his arms.

“Yes.” Wooyoung repeats, selecting a sachet of black tea. He decides to use Yeosang’s verbal abrasion as a steeping timer.

“There’s a reason people make appointments, Jung Wooyoung, which is something you don’t seem to understand. Being an idol doesn’t make you immune to other people’s schedules. If you wanted to flex your celebrity privilege you should’ve stuck with the over-used, under-payed stylists that your entertainment company no doubt employs. I’m sure they would be happy to drop their well-earned coffees and fluff your aura at a moment’s notice.”

Wooyoung took a moment to sip the warm liquid. “I think the tea’s a little bitter today, Yeosang-ssi. Anything you can do to make it a bit sweeter?” Taking another drink, he glanced up over the rim of his teacup to see Yeosang’s face flicker to disgust before falling back to feigned neutrality. He leaned over the edge of his desk and grabbed a handful of honey packets, releasing them unceremoniously above the tray on the table. The last one to fall splashed directly into his cup.

“I hope that helps,” Yeosang baited, sickly sweet. 

Wooyoung fished the packet out with a spoon. “Immensely, thank you.”

Over the next 45 minutes Wooyoung drank two more cups of black tea before he started to feel wired. During that time, he kept alert. Occasionally he would hear San’s laugh, or see him guide his current client around the salon, their hair various stages of cut, dried or colored. He was watching for any moments of physicality - any light touches or pointed looks. From afar San seemed to talk more and touch less, if anything.

Wooyoung had been holding off on checking his phone, the light chirp of the notification bell tweeting every few minutes. Just as he saw his targets emerge from the back of the salon, his alerts chirped aggressively once more. He jumped as the receptionist slammed his clipboard down on the desk, causing the surrounding papers to flutter. 

“What did I say about flexing your privilege?” Yeosang snapped as he came out from around the corner, effectively blocking Wooyoung’s view down the aisle. 

“Wait, Yeosang-ssi,” he dove his head from one side to the other trying to watch San and his client walk closer. “Can you just-”

“Excuse me? Can I what? I can’t hear you over the incessant reminder of your popular demand. I would hate to have to ask you to turn it down. Can you speak a little louder instead?”

Wooyoung began frantically waving his arms toward one side as he pleaded, “Best, most virtuous receptionist Yeosang-ssi, I promise I’ll turn it to vibrate if you just-” He cut himself off when he saw the edge of San’s shoulder moving behind Yeosang’s back, close enough to hear his conversation.

“Okay darling~, you take lots of care now~, tell Jungkook I said hi, okay byebye~... Oh, Yeosang-ssi! I can tell you must be busy, but can you ring him up? Thank you~” Finally Yeosang moves, making way for San’s client to sway up to the desk with a smile, fresh brown highlights falling over his cheekbone. Wooyoung had missed getting to see whatever had gone on behind Yeosang’s back, so he made sure to gift the receptionist one last level glare before rising to his feet. 

As he gathered his things, San cocked his head in interest. “Oh! Wooyoung-ssi, have you been here long?” He surveyed the multiple discarded honey packets scattered around the coffee table. He looked back to catch the end of Woo’s glare at the receptionist. “Ah, you must’ve been. I see you and Yeosang-ssi are getting along well,” he giggled. “Okay, lets go.”

When Wooyoung stayed rooted to the spot, San blinked. He searched his face for a moment before something clicked into place. Wooyoung can only watch as San’s features shift smoothly from bewilderment to the usual thin smirk he wears during their appointments. 

San moved pointedly, one foot landing between Wooyoung’s, the other placed on the outside. If he was any closer their thighs would have been sandwiched together. Wooyoung caught his breath, holding it in as arms moved in his peripherals, gaze locked onto San’s dark, dark irises. San’s left palm came to mold itself underneath the contour of Wooyoung’s jaw, tilting his face up ever so slightly. “I’m sorry I forgot, Wooyoung-ssi,” he murmured, right thumb slowly beginning to graze against Wooyoung’s cheekbone, burying the rest of his fingers in the hair behind his ear. “I’ve been a little busy today, but thank you for reminding me,” San purred, bringing his lips up to join his thumb against Wooyoung’s cheekbone. He felt a soft puff of warm breath against his skin as San exhaled gently, withdrawing for a moment to move to the other side, then pause. Wooyoung was frozen waiting for the impact, body threatening to lean the last few millimeters to make contact with the soft pink crest of San’s lips. “Breathe, Wooyoung” San whispered as he closed the distance. 

Wooyoung coughed out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

San pulled back and dropped his right hand, smirk re-emerging, while his left remained along Woo’s jaw a second longer. Voice back to it’s usual tone San cooed, “Are you alright Wooyoung-ssi? You feel a little warm. Maybe all that caffeine you drank got your blood plumping a little, hmm? Let’s get you back into the chair.” 

With that, San’s hand ghosted all the way down to the center of Wooyoung’s back, beginning to guide him away from the front of the salon. Yeosang fixed them with a bored expression as they passed by.

.:.:.:.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciao for now, darlings~ ::cheek kisses::
> 
> You can also find the threadfic version of this story on my new Ateez Twitter account!
> 
> Twitter: [@wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yunho makes an appearance, along with jealous Wooyoung and some ear anatomy. 
> 
> San asks for verbal consent.

Wooyoung wasted no time becoming a brat. His phone was in his lap before the back of his thighs even hit the chair, scooting back as far as possible and throwing one leg over the other. He cocked his head at an almost 90 degree angle to start reviewing all those notifications he missed just for this purpose. 

It only took about 10 seconds of silence for San to figure it out. 

With a subtle look left, then right, San slid his hand from the back of Woo’s neck to the front, two first fingers applying pressure underneath his chin. “We’ve talked about this, Wooyoung-ssi.” Wooyoung made a small sound but kept his eyes on his phone. 

Pressing his fingertips into the soft underbelly of Wooyoung’s chin, Woo was forced to try and swallow, wet noises falling from his mouth. When San moved his hand away to grab a comb, Woo’s head fell right back into his original position. San’s half-lidded eyes took in the back of Wooyoung’s head, lips pursed. After grabbing his tools he dove in a bit more forcefully. 

The next few minutes involved San manhandling his client with a mixture of tight grabs and rough pulling, sprinkled with muffled sounds slowly increasing in intensity, As the cut neared completion, Wooyoung decided to chance making a phone call to his manager. Hitting the speaker button and punching in a number, he couldn’t help the corners of lips perking up in anticipation. The second his finger moved toward ‘send’ he could no longer breathe properly, an impossibly loud moan ripping out of his throat.

The entire salon turns their direction. 

San doesn’t even flinch, just tuts his tongue and keeps combing. After a beat the salon resumes motion.

Hand around his throat, San leans down to inspect the clean edge bordering his ear. “Wooyoung” he whispers, “the other clients can hear you.” San starts humming tunelessly and the salon seems to return to normal all at once. 

“This is a public place, Wooyoung-ssi.” 

Wooyoung whines stupidly. 

“Oh I see. You’re very aware, hmm darling?” San mouths against his ear. “With all those people fawning over you all day, you would think you get enough attention.” He moves to fist his hand into Wooyoung’s hair instead. “But it’s not attention that you want, right darling? It’s something else.” San yanks his hair again, hard.

“San,” Wooyoung gasps, “San. I want to dye my hair blonde.” San stops midair and his expression blanks. “San, please.”

“You’ve been against it for so long. Why now?”

Wooyoung looked at San through the mirror, doing his best to hold eye contact even as his restless squirming intensified. San tightened the fist in Wooyoung’s hair and he let out a soft moan. 

“I told you not to let anyone do it but me.”

“Yes,” Wooyoung breathed, pressing back into San’s still-frozen hand. “Only you. Please, San, I want you to do it.” They stayed like that for a moment, staring at their reflections until another stylist walked through the image and shattered their trance.

“That appointment would be extra long, and you would need to come in more often - for upkeep.” Wooyoung squirmed in reply. “Is that what you want, Wooyoung-ssi?” Forgetting their current connection, Wooyoung tried to nod. 

“Use your words, darling.”

“Yes,” he breathed. 

San relaxed his fist, strands of black hair flowing through his fingers like a river. 

“No.” 

Wooyoung froze, eyes wide. San resumed combing through his ends as if nothing had happened.

“W-What?” Woo’s mind began to grapple. “Is it…because of the salon owner?” 

San gave a light laugh. He decides to take a step back and starts sweeping the fallen bits of Wooyoung’s hair off the floor, breaking their physical contact. Wooyoung’s breathing slows. “Mingi-ssi would be elated to have you come more frequently, I’m sure. But it really has nothing to do with him. During your extended stay on our comfortable couch, you probably saw that Salon Song is very busy. The chairs are always filled, whether I’m working or not. We even share workstations. So even if I would be willing to do that for you, I’m afraid there would be no new time slots available.”

It took only a second before Wooyoung was offering the full use of KQ’s salon suite. San said nothing as he swept the loose hairs into a dustbin. 

“I don’t think you actually want to go blonde, Wooyoung-ssi.”

“Yes I do.” 

San pauses, still bent over the dustbin. When he straightens up Wooyoung looks him square in the eye. 

“I want to bleach my hair, San. And I want you to do it.”

.:.:.:.

Wooyoung was well aware of South Korea’s unspoken no-touching rule. In the past he had relied on his manager to smooth things over with the gossip magazines when he got too close to anyone, regardless of their gender. Then Wooyoung would have to spend the next few weeks going out all the time, letting the cameras tail him and refraining from any unnecessary interaction just so he could “prove” he wasn’t secretly dating someone. It was exhausting, and eventually he stopped initiating any form of physicality, no matter who he was with. 

That’s why he liked San. San was very physical, and San got away with it.

When San arrives at KQ Entertainment two weeks later, Wooyoung’s manager is there to greet him. It’s a Sunday afternoon, an off-time when the building is usually pretty empty. Wooyoung suggested the time knowing that this - hair bleaching - might turn into quite a long process.

“Hello, again San!” Yunho bowed with a wide smile. “How long has it been since you first came to give that staff presentation...six months?”

San offered his own brilliant grin, eyes turning into crescents as he returned the bow. “I think you’re right, Yunho-ssi. Actually, how old are you? Can I call you hyung?”

By the time they reached the in-house salon the pair were chatting amicably. Yunho stepped over the threshold with a giggling San in toe, mouth covered with one hand. Wooyoung’s head snapped to look at them from where he was perched on top of the makeup counter. 

“Well, San. Here’s my direct number, feel free to call me at any time. You’re always welcome at KQ.” 

“Ah, hyung! Thank you~” San sang, face aglow.

Looking his way, Yunho said, “I’m proud of your bold decision Woo. You’re going to look great, and it’s really going to add some flair to your image.” He turned back to the other man. “I know San will take care of you. Okay, get to it.” Before he could move to leave San stepped forward, pulling him in to kiss his cheeks goodbye. San waved as Yunho left with a fond smile, letting the door close behind him.

When San turned back he was assaulted by the daggers Wooyoung was throwing from across the room. 

“Your manager is so nice, Wooyoung-ssi. You should’ve brought him to the salon ages ago,” San praised, smirk falling back into place. He continued to walk straight toward Wooyoung whose stare continued to darken. 

“Hyung, huh?”

“Mmhmm~ He’s older than me, you know.” 

“So? It’s not a requirement. I’ve never called you hyung.”

San stopped a foot away from Wooyoung’s dangling knees, hands by his side.

“No, you haven’t. Is there something else you would rather call me, darling?” San’s eyes glittered as he tilted his head to one side, waiting.

The longer he stayed silent the deeper San’s smirk became. His knowing gaze started to make Wooyoung squirm, shifting around on top of the marble counter. He eventually linked his hands together in his lap. Wooyoung was desperately trying not to melt under San’s dominant presence, even going so far as to sink a row of teeth into his bottom lip to keep quiet. San’s pupils dilated at that but his eyes never looked down. It was only when Woo pressed a hand on the cool marble between his thighs that San’s eyes wavered, giving Woo the confidence boost he needed. 

Abruptly, Wooyoung swung off the counter. He pressed the front of his body against San’s, faces only centimeters apart. San’s eyes widened in surprise but he held his ground.

Wooyoung then realized he hadn’t entirely thought this through. 

He started to panic when San didn’t speak or move. Not knowing what to do next, he defaulted to trying to mimic what San had done to him in the past. Aiming to bring his hands up to San’s face, he decided to ghost them lightly over the smooth fabric of San’s button-up, dragging his fingers over wide shoulder blades on his way there. Then he cupped his cheeks. One last look in San’s luring eyes made him swallow. Finally, he angled his face to one side, attempting to bring it around to kiss San’s cheek for their usual greeting. When he moved to the left, San’s lips followed. Wooyoung stopped, wondering if that meant he was supposed to kiss the other cheek first. When he tilted the other direction San’s mouth followed again. Perplexed, Wooyoung brought his face around once more, huffing when San again wouldn’t let him connect. He let out a soft whimper when he looked back into San’s face, trying to convey his frustration. 

What he didn’t expect was for San to swiftly drop down to wrap one arm around his waist and the other around his thighs, picking him up and sliding him back onto the countertop before moving to stand between his parted legs. Pulling Wooyoung’s chest flush against his, he kept one arm wrapped around his waist while the other came up to fist in the base of Wooyoung’s hair. He hesitated for one moment before kissing Woo’s cheeks, lips leaving wetter, hotter kisses to complete the act. 

Wooyoung hadn’t realized his head was subconsciously tilting, hands wrapped up in the back of San’s shirt. 

He clenched his thighs tight against San’s hips, trying to keep him in place when he realized San would probably pull away. San breathed out a low chuckle, smirk evident even in the rumble of his chest. He let his lips continue to graze Woo’s face, mapping the territory between his temple and the turn of his jaw. He stopped at the groove of his tragus, slowly exhaling a soft, warm breath over the entire ear. Wooyoung’s body erupted into shivers. He tried to press even farther into San, hips angling forward and head turning almost fully to the side, baring his neck and the expanse of his pierced ear. San continued to release huffs of moist air as he explored its contours freely. When he comes across the hoop earring in Woo’s lobe, he bites it lightly. Wooyoung’s breath hiccups and he presses his pelvis harder against San’s. 

When San moves his teeth to nibble on fleshy lobe instead, Wooyoung loses it. 

Moaning loudly, Woo quickly wraps one arm around San’s neck, the other slamming onto the counter behind him for support. He starts full on rutting his hips into San’s, demanding friction. 

San releases him in a flash, hands pushing Woo securely back onto the counter. Wooyoung tries to hold on, arm around San’s neck tightening.

“-no!” Woo starts, eyes alarmed. He tries to pull San closer again.

One hand firmly holding Wooyoung in place, San brings the other back to press into his wrist, loosening Wooyoung’s grip. Pupils large, he quickly pleads, “Wooyoung. Remember why we’re here today.”

Wooyoung can’t remember how to form full sentences.

San pulls a deep breath in, then out. “Woo, darling,” he tries again softly, “Let’s get your hair dyed pretty, hmm?” 

San gathers Wooyoung’s wrists, pressing his thumbs into the palms. Woo seems to relax at that, body starting to still. 

He waits a few more minutes, rubbing into Woo’s palms until he’s fully coherent. Only then does he push, “If we’re going to bleach your hair we have to do it now. Are you sure you want to do this, Wooyoung-ssi? You can still say no.”

Wooyoung nods.

“Words, darling.”

“Yes San, I trust you.”

.:.:.:.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ciao for now, darlings~ ::cheek kisses::
> 
> You can also find the threadfic version of this story on my new Ateez Twitter account!
> 
> Twitter: [@wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wooyoung finally goes blonde, and San finds him a new nickname.

Five hours later, Wooyoung was blonde. Platinum blonde. 

It wasn’t as bad as he expected. His hair hadn’t fallen out and the bleach didn’t sting that bad. Five hours was a lot, but he was content in San’s hands. Woo didn’t put up any kind of a fight once San started the process. He saw how focused San became, how much effort he was putting into measuring the right amounts, coating the pieces evenly, and protecting Woo’s skin as much as possible. He couldn’t be bratty when he saw the way San was taking care of him. 

It was almost like they were back to the beginning; Woo sitting quietly while San got the job done, swift and professional. Almost - but not quite.

After San finally took Woo’s cape off and swept up the floor Wooyoung asked if they could take a picture together. He wanted to celebrate his new image and give his fans something to look forward to. San conceded.

“You’re beautiful.”

Woo paused his caption-writing. 

“Thanks. You were right. I do look good like this, but only because you knew what you were doing. Anyone else would have done a botch job.”

San returned his usual thin smirk with a slight bow. “I know you’ve said you’ve seen a lot of other idols get their hair dyed. Do you know how to take care of it?”

Wooyoung resumed his task. “Yeah, yeah, don’t wash your hair, use color-treated shampoo, etc etc…” he trailed off as his fingers flew around his phone.

“That’s not quite it,” San begins. “You can’t wash your hair for at least three days, and the closer you can get to a full week the better. Now you’ll have to come in for touch ups every 2 weeks to check on the growth, especially since you’re a face in the media and need constant upkeep. At home you should use Olaplex No. 3. They also have a great shampoo and conditioner - I brought them with me because I assumed KQ wouldn’t have it here, and they don’t,” San scoffed, “and use a hair mask when you can for the love of all things holy. Leave it on for at least five minutes after cleansing your hair, or do some chores around the house with it on if you have the time. Oh! And if you aren’t already you should be using a microfiber hair towel…” San continued until he realized Wooyoung was just giving empty mmhmmms, not paying attention.

San’s eyes darken. Brusquely moving to the chair, San grabs Wooyoung’s face from below, wrenching his eyes up and pressing fingertips into the divots of his cheeks to hold his mouth open. When San presses harder, Wooyoung’s tongue comes to loll out from behind his teeth. 

Slowly, San’s pinkie trails along the edge of the wet, warm muscle.

“So you know what aftercare means then, darling? You don’t need me to explain it to you?” 

San puffed a gust of breath into Woo’s open mouth, chills erupting along his taste buds. Eyes almost completely glazing over, Wooyoung looks up at him. San waits, looking at Woo almost patiently, pinkie coming to still against the tip of his tongue. Unsure of what he wanted, Wooyoung tried tilting his head forward and pushing his tongue out further, pressing flat against the length of San’s finger. 

This seems to be the right answer. San releases Woo’s jaw, flipping his hand over to place his pinkie onto the back of his tongue, near the wall of his throat. The rest of his knuckles push against Woo’s wide, parted lips. On instinct Wooyoung closes his lips around the digit, dragging his tongue back inside with a long lick against San’s hand. His eyes flutter closed as he begins to suck. When he hears San’s soft hum of approval Woo starts licking feverishly. His tongue snakes around the finger, attempting to bring it even deeper into his mouth. 

San was still holding his chin up, but he wished he could see if San’s lower body was being affected by this too. “San,” he forced out between long licks, “I promise I’ll come in to get my touch ups whenever you tell me to.” 

San said nothing and Wooyoung looked up into his face, applying kitten licks to the tip of his still erect finger. 

“San,” he said again, “I trust you, and I want you - I want you to be my exclusive stylist.”

San freezes. Wooyoung starts to panic, not wanting San to pull away. 

“Didn’t Mingi say that I’ve been propositioned before, and that I always say no?” San asks, reserved. 

Woo’s voice wobbles as he asks, “But isn’t our relationship…different from what it’s been with your other clients?” 

“It can still be different without me working underneath you. You can still come to Salon Song, and I can still come here to KQ. I don’t want to become pressured under the weight of your money, or to feel like you are ‘paying’ for certain services that I might want to give you anyway, hmm?”

“Can’t I...can’t I be the only one you do this with? Does there have to be more?” His pulse escalates when San doesn't immediately respond.

“Wooyoung. Have you ever seen me touching other clients the way I touch you?”

“You’re right, you do greet everyone with your lips.” Wooyoung spits. But then he thinks about the day he went to Salon Song an hour early, and how he observed San doing the opposite - less touching and more talking.

“Aside from that, darling,” San sighed in response.

“You call everyone darling,” he says dejectedly. Wooyoung was grasping at straws, knowing San was right. 

“Oh. You want to be called something special, hmm? What would you like me to call you?” San smirks. Woo flushes deeply, too ashamed to reply. 

San’s face is pained as he begins to speak again. “Wooyoung. You’re not the only one who likes to be physical. Don’t you think it’s hard for me sometimes too? 

“After living in a place that normalized public displays of affection, I didn’t want to let it go. So I brought it back with me. Do you think I just came back to Seoul acting too eccentric for Korea’s standards and everyone said, oh that’s fun? No, that’s not what happened. I had to find a job here, but I wasn’t willing to compromise my want to display my affections. Mingi-ssi took a risk on me. He saw me for the whole picture: my skills, my personality. That’s why I’m loyal to him - he didn’t want to ask me to compromise. So, what he said was right. I don’t want to be exclusive because I do like the challenge of working with many different clients who have many different tastes. But I also owe him a lot. He’s only given me opportunity, not taken it away.” 

Wooyoung’s lower lip falls open as San runs his thumb across it. He sees San’s gaze lock on his mouth. “But sometimes it’s still not enough,” San murmurs, following the supple curve of Woo’s lip as he traces it. 

“That’s why I like you, Woo. It’s not enough for you either.” 

San turns away, retreating to sit on the nearby couch. Wooyoung is immediately tensed up, worried he’s only being teased again.

“San,” Woo called, voice tight, “You’re right, it’s not enough for me either.” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I want to be touched more. I want you to touch me more.”

“Come here, baby.” 

Woo’s eyes go round, taking in the sight of San’s inviting posture, patting his thighs as encouragement. In an instant Wooyoung is standing in front of him, shins knocking against San’s knees, unsure of what he should do next. San reaches out to take Woo’s hands in his, lightly pulling them onto his own shoulders. Then San’s hot palms are sliding up his calves to grab the back of his thighs, just above the knee. He looks up into Wooyoung’s face, lightly urging him forward. “Baby,” San soothes, “Come here, baby.” Woo’s throat constricts in emotion. Legs wobbly, he supports himself on San’s shoulders while lowering onto his waiting lap. As Wooyoung tries to process this new and very intimate position, San starts massaging his thighs. 

Everywhere that his body connects with San is burning: his calves, running along the edge of San’s toned muscles; his thighs, dimpling and bouncing back under the deft caresses of San’s warm hands; his balls, nestled on top of the seam of San’s jeans, cocks so close to meeting one another. Wooyoung is burning, burning, burning. He knows he’s losing his coherency to the smoke. He just doesn’t know what that means, or what to call it, but all he wants is to burn more of himself, and faster. 

As San’s hands move up Woo’s thighs, he leans in. “Oh, that’s what you wanted me to call you. Isn’t it, baby?” 

Wooyoung’s chest is burning untouched, lit and stoked by San’s husky words and the meaning behind them. He knows San is looking at him, waiting for a response, but he can’t remember what they were talking about. All he can hear is his pulse in his ears as he stares at that thin smirk on San’s face. He wants to lick it. His mouth fills with saliva. He knows he was supposed to respond to San, but he can’t. And he knows San cares about him, and that he won’t do anything without Woo’s permission. So Woo decides to give him the clearest permission he currently can.

Hands gripping shoulders, Wooyoung brings his face into San’s, breath and eyelids heavy. He looks at San’s lips, then his eyes, seeing their challenge. 

Wooyoung tilts his head to the side and licks a long, broad strip across both San’s lips. He does it again, tip of the tongue pushing hard to pull their buoyant pinkness in its wake, bouncing back when he lets off. He can feel more than hear San’s reaction. His hands have stilled, fingertips pressing valleys along the sides of Woo’s meaty thighs. When Wooyoung quickly slides the tip of his tongue between San’s closed lips he groans, his whole body vibrating. It goes straight to Wooyoung’s dick, confidence increasing tenfold. Woo angles his legs out, pressing his lower half completely onto San. He loops his arms around his shoulders for stability and continues licking against San’s mouth. As the burning feeling increases, so does his intensity. When Wooyoung plunges his teeth into San’s lower lip, San moans openly. Wooyoung’s tongue is instantly inside, wrapped in San’s warm, fast exhales. He starts to grind down in circles.

“Wooyoung, baby, wait.” San manages to get out. Wooyoung can’t wait, only whines and grinds his hips harder.

Abruptly, San gets a grip and pulls Wooyoung’s freshly bleached hair, his head snapping backwards and off of San’s lips. The mix of pain and pleasure almost makes Wooyoung come on the spot. As San holds him there, Woo lets out a string of high-pitched whines. Wooyoung’s head is so heavy with smoke that it takes him a second to lean back up once San lets go. He sees San’s eyes glitter before he guides their mouths together slowly, lips greeting in a true kiss for the first time. 

Wooyoung came.

A beat passes before Wooyoung is crying, not understanding what happened. He didn’t want to come so fast, he doesn’t want to disappoint San. San is going to think he wasn’t good enough, not sexy enough, not strong enough. Wooyoung craved San’s touch more than anything, and he didn’t understand what just happened.

His mouth twists up in anxiety as he stares at San, tears streaming down his cheeks. San is instantly wiping them away and hugging Woo tightly. “Oh, baby,” San whispers. His eyes search Wooyoung’s face desperately before kissing his lips, then his cheeks.

San kisses him softly, sweetly, dusting him with kitten licks and quiet praises. He hugs Woo against him hard, hands rubbing gently against his back, arms, and hips. Wooyoung hides his face against the crook of San’s neck, tears wetting the collar of San’s shirt silently. 

“Let me take care of you, Woo. I can drive you home, and if you want me to come in I can make some food while you take a bath, hmm?” 

.:.:.:.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twitter: [@wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> San takes care of Wooyoung.
> 
> Wooyoung takes care of San.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allow me to introduce: Fluff, semi-sheer pajamas, and the salon's color room.
> 
> Please enjoy the final chapter of my first ever fan fic! 
> 
> :: cheek kisses ::

Wooyoung was still a little shaken up when they reached his apartment. As soon as they stepped through the front door San was asking if he could start running the water for Woo’s bath. 

It had been so long since Wooyoung had someone other than his manager in his apartment. He felt a tingle in his stomach as he watched San’s socked feet travel down the hall. Wooyoung draped himself on the couch. It was only 10:00PM and for some reason his body felt utterly exhausted.

San quickly returned, asking Woo permission to use whatever he found in the kitchen to make something for dinner and sending Woo into the bathroom with specific instructions.

“I added some lavender oil that I found on the sink, and I laid a fresh towel on the chair. Don’t fall asleep or I’ll have to break the door down and see you naked-,” Woo turned beet red, "and last, the most important thing - you will _NOT_ wash your hair, Wooyoung.”

When Wooyoung emerged clean and smelling like calm 30-minutes later, he found San just plating up some salmon for them both. Woo couldn’t help but smile at the sight of nationally famous hairstylist Choi San arranging a meal for him, standing in an apron at his kitchen counter, pulling his heartstrings. San hadn’t heard Woo come out of the bath, so he took the opportunity to sneak up on him. San jumped mid-sauce-drizzle when Wooyoung snuggled into him, arms hugging around his stomach. He breathed San in, fighting the effervescent aroma of salmon and balsamic to pick out that ginger and vanilla shampoo he once used on Wooyoung, and a hint of something heady and unnamed. 

San said nothing, only smiled and put down the pan so he could cover Wooyoung’s hands with his own. He tipped his head back onto Wooyoung’s shoulder and sighed. They stayed like that for a minute until San patted his hands, moving the finished plates to the lofted counter and stools.

When San turned around he noticed what Wooyoung was wearing. 

Wooyoung had picked out a semi-sheer men’s pajama set, the back fabric appearing opaque until the light shone directly on him. The bottoms were tight at the top, fondling his round, full ass before billowing down his legs and nearly covering his bare toes. The top was essentially a basic v-neck t-shirt, aside from the way it nipped in at the waist and showed a bit too much collar bone. With the way the light was hitting him, San could see the stiff peaks of Woo’s nipples under the tight, semi-sheer material, and he knew he was going to have trouble keeping them out of his mind. San swallowed and focused on taking off his apron instead. They still hadn’t said anything to one another.

They were almost through their meal seated side-by-side at the counter when Wooyoung asked, “San, why did that happen to me?” 

San was briefly caught off-guard. “What specifically, baby?”

“Yah! You know what!” He complained, smacking San in the arm. “Don’t make me admit it out loud, it’s embarrassing! We weren’t even doing anything - you hadn’t even touched me!” 

San giggles away from the attack and ponders for a moment, wiping his lips with his napkin. “I think you fell into your headspace too deep and too fast. From what you’ve shared, it doesn’t seem like you’ve been all very physical with anyone for a long time-” Wooyoung looks aghast and blushes hard, “but that isn’t a bad thing! It just means that all of that attention at once was too much. And some of that was my fault,” he apologized, petting Wooyoung’s hair. “I know you like getting your hair pulled, Woo. I guess I just didn’t know how much. But that and the kiss was a lot of intense feelings at once, am I right?” He waits for Wooyoung to nod. “And then you experienced subdrop, baby, because you came so unexpectedly and you didn’t want it to happen yet. You wanted to keep going, yeah?” Woo nods again and San presses a kiss into his hair. “It was just a little too much for our first time. We’ll have to build up to it - if you want to keep seeing me outside of our ‘offices’, that is.”

Wooyoung whipped his face up from where he had been forking a garnish around on his plate. “Of course I do!” He looked alarmed. Wooyoung, unsure of what else to say, watched as San rose to put their plates in the dishwasher.

_For a guy who’d never been here before, he sure takes control of the place._

Yeah, the same way he took control of Wooyoung. The thought made him hot.

San stopped and exhibited his sweet crescent moon smile from across the countertop. “Then why don’t you show me?” He came around and laced his fingers with Wooyoung’s, slowly leading him to the blue couch in the living room. When he sat down he motioned for Wooyoung to join him, grabbing Woo’s legs and laying them across his own lap. “Show me,” San said lightly, one hand lingering on Wooyoung’s knee. 

Woo gave San one long, lingering look before taking his cheeks in both hands. San’s eyes closed as Woo moved in to kiss one, then the other. When Wooyoung moved to his lips, San smiled. Wooyoung kept it soft this time, no tongue involved. His lips were featherlight grazing across San’s and kissing the corners of his mouth. He drug them back and forth, releasing butterflies rather than small fires. They were sprinkled with small nips and sucks, never getting too heated. He shifted more of his weight into San as they kissed. San embraced him.

Wooyoung kissed him and kissed him and San kissed back. They kissed so, so sweet, until Wooyoung started to slow with sleep and warmth and comfort. 

San pulled back when he noticed, carding a hand through Wooyoung’s hair instead. Woo sighed, letting his head fall on San’s neck and his eyes drift shut. “San,” he drawled, evaporating under his repetitive touch, “will you be here when I wake up?”

Without missing a beat San replied, “Only if you want me to be here, Woo.”

“Yes, I do. Please stay.”

“Okay baby,” San whispered into Wooyoung’s already drifting form.

.:.:.:.

When Wooyoung sauntered through the private backdoor of Salon Song on Choi San’s arm the next morning, Yeosang nearly spat out his coffee.

San had invited Wooyoung to join him at the salon after he learned Woo had the day off. He could tell Wooyoung still felt a little wary of the fact that San didn’t accept his offer to be his exclusive stylist, so he wanted to show him that a normal day in his life doesn’t include pulling people’s hair or causing other men to make a mess of themselves. He texted Mingi to get his permission, knowing how busy they were and wanting to make sure it was okay to let him stay all day. 

San directed Wooyoung to a drying chair not far from his own station while he went to get ready. That meant going over his schedule for the day with Yeosang and changing into the spare suit he kept at the salon. Already bored, Woo decided to dig into the muffin San bought him from the cafe next door since they were unable to eat a proper breakfast this morning. 

After waking up in a tangled mess on the couch, Wooyoung tried to sneakily make eggs without waking San. Unfortunately, he got distracted when San was the one who snuck up behind him. Without any warning, San cupped Wooyoung’s full bottom, pressing his hips against it as he leaned to speak into Woo’s ear. He told him how much he loved these pajamas, how he loved the way he could almost see the dip defining the space between his cheeks, the way he could tell Woo wasn’t wearing any underwear, and how he would love to slowly strip them off Wooyoung’s body. Woo was left thinking about San’s half-hard package pressed into the cleft of his ass even after San smirked and whisked himself away. When he looked down the eggs were burnt. 

Wooyoung was almost finished with his muffin by the time San returned with his first client of the day. Woo said he didn’t want to impede on San or the other staff members, so he wanted everyone to treat him like he wasn't there - he didn’t need to be introduced or catered to. Yeosang was more than happy to oblige. 

Woo had been observing the inner workings of the salon contentedly from his vantage point sat tucked into a fairly remote corner. He saw San act with consistency and care, limiting touches to hello and goodbye kisses, keeping cordial conversation flowing in between. Woo was content - maybe too content. 

San had done as Woo had asked, not deviating from his work other than to send Wooyoung the occasional skin-tingling smirk. Towards the end of San’s third appointment, Wooyoung decided he needed a little more of San’s attention. It was difficult to be around such a beautiful man with such beautiful, strong hands.

He’s blocked on one side by a shelf filled with supplies and the wall of the salon on the other. San told him that drying chairs like the one he was seated on were only used for major hair transformations like perms or dyes. It was unlikely that he would have to move since there were a number of others, so Wooyoung made himself at home.

Today Wooyoung had carefully chosen a black button up, trying to contrast the look of his new platinum blonde hair. He always left at least one button undone for a little sex appeal. He paired it with tight black jeans ripped at the knees and patent black chelsea boots to keep it sleek. Woo topped it off with a silver chain belt that matched his identical choker, one he hoped San would bite into later.

He figured this was as good a time as any to undo another button.

Wooyoung waits until San is on one side of his client so his face is angled the right direction. He takes a chance and brings a hand to his collar, drawing out the action in hopes of attracting San’s attention to the change in his movements. It works.

San looks up from straightening the long black hair of the woman in front of him, face remaining impassive as Wooyoung slowly slips the button through the hole with one hand, the other gripping the seat of his chair. San looks away for a moment to find a new section of hair but flicks his eyes back up quickly. Wooyoung takes that as the only form of encouragement he’s going to receive. He continues by sliding a hand up his pecs, fanning his fingers across his neck and sliding back down the other side. Woo maintains eye contact with San as he pulls his shirt to the side, fully exposing a prominent collar bone. Then he draws one finger across it, simultaneously letting his tongue swipe along the crest of his top lip. He thinks he sees a muscle tense in San’s neck as he looks back down to the client before him. San quickly turns his back on Woo, working on the other half of her head in an attempt to stay focused. Wooyoung pouts to himself, resting his chin in a hand and propping it against his knee. San will have to finish the other side eventually, so he’ll just have to wait. 

Knowing he was hidden from most of the other staff and patrons of Salon Song, Wooyoung undid another button in preparation for his next chance at tempting San. At this point his shirt was halfway open and his creamy, toned chest trying to escape from the fabric. When he saw his chance, Woo opened it quickly, the flash of black and cream successfully drawing San’s eyes. Slowing down, Wooyoung took the edge of his collar between his teeth and exposed his chest even further, pulling the fabric just far enough to reveal the brown edge of a nipple.

San dropped a hairbrush. 

He picked it up swiftly, profusely apologizing to his client with bows and small smiles. When he straightened back up he shot Wooyoung a look that screamed trouble. 

Wooyoung shoves two fingers in his mouth before San can look away again. Wooyoung keeps his eyes trained on San’s, splitting his two fingers into a V and licking in between them, rocking in and out of his mouth for San’s viewing pleasure. Knowing he didn’t have much longer before San recovered from shock, Woo equips a power move. He snaps his fingers together and shoves them as far into his mouth as possible, choking quietly as the tips hit the back of his throat. 

It takes all of San’s willpower to keep a straight face and look away. 

Wooyoung waited almost patiently throughout the rest of that appointment, swaying his legs side to side in anticipation. The moment San returned from escorting his client to the front of the salon, San moved pointedly, grabbing his elbow and dragging him out of the chair. He pulled so aggressively Woo couldn’t help but grin, knowing he’d gotten San all hot and bothered. He’s never seen San’s aura rippling with this much dominance, and Wooyoung practically pulses in anticipation.

It didn’t matter where they were going, but Woo was admittedly surprised when San pulled him into the small color prep room, bottles of rainbow hair dyes lining the shelves. 

San was shoving Wooyoung against the door before it had even closed completely. He thrust his thigh between Woo’s and pinned his wrists high above him, breathing quickly. Wooyoung couldn’t help but laugh at the unusually flustered look on San’s face. 

“What’s wrong Sannie?” Woo purred cheekily. He stretched and preened against the door. “I told you not to pay any attention to me today. I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?” Woo slowly pulled his lip between his teeth. A vein pulsed in San’s neck. 

“You’re being a brat, Jung Wooyoung.” San gritted out between clenched teeth.

Wooyoung started dry humping San’s thigh, the rocking motion creating echoing thumps against the wooden door.

“Then punish me, _daddy._ ”

His smirk disappeared when San wrapped both hands in the silver chain running through his belt loops, snapping his hips off the door and into his own. When he did it again the rest of Wooyoung followed, stumbling as San hauled him deeper into the room by his belt. When San’s back hit a full shelf, he jerked the chain particularly hard and Woo was stumbling to his knees. As soon as he hit the ground San was bending over, fingers lifting Wooyoung’s face into lip-biting kisses. Missing San’s thigh underneath him, Woo used both hands to palm himself through his jeans, mewling into San’s burning mouth. As soon as San noticed he pressed his fingers into Wooyoung’s throat, barely touching him. It was enough. 

Wooyoung’s eyes went wide, unseeing. He was brought back to the first day San was rough with him, amidst the steam and the bubbles and the fingers on his neck. His breath grew short and he stared into San’s face.

_Oh, how far they’d come._

He stopped caring about censoring himself, about what his entertainment agency said or who the media saw him touching. He wanted more, and he wanted it from San, right here and right now. 

Woo leveraged the angle and threw San back against the shelf, containers raining down from the force of the impact. San was stunned. He unbuttoned San’s belt, open-mouth kissing the bulge now at his level. He looked up into San’s face for permission and saw eyes filled with simmering heat and lips slightly parted. He was going to let Wooyoung take control, just this once. San swallowed dryly, hands coming to glide through Woo’s hair like water. He nodded.

Too caught up in one another, they didn’t notice the fallen containers had popped open on the floor, leaking kaleidoscope pools across the slick tiles.

Wooyoung brought San’s slacks down over the swell of his ass, leaving them to gather at his ankles. Savoring the moment, he slid his hands up between the tops of San’s thighs and the fabric of his underwear, fingertips exploring San’s hard pelvis wherever they could reach. Woo found San’s cockhead easily, nosing up the fabric with wet exhales until he found a place which made San 'oh'. Gathering the damp fabric in his palms he yanked down hard, San’s cock bouncing free from its confines. 

Too busy feeling each other, they didn’t see the rainbow swirls leaking out from under the door and into the well-traveled hallway.

Wooyoung’s chest heaved at the sight of white precum leaking unreservedly, relishing in the knowledge that something about him had this effect on San. He looked up one more time.

“You’re the one that’s beautiful,” Wooyoung whispered. San was incapable of speech.

Wooyoung kissed the tip, tongue licking timidly at first, alternating between wide, flat strokes and thin, quick drags. He swirled his tongue around it, savoring the full width and smooth, smooth texture. He didn’t know if he had ever felt something so soft. He opened his lips slightly, welcoming San the slightest bit inside, lips cushioning the edges. His own body was slowly tensing up, almost painful from the lack of attention. San groaned in yearning and Wooyoung plunged his mouth down on San’s hot member. 

Their mix of lurid sounds made it impossible to hear someone slip and fall just outside the door, crashing to the ground with a short 'oof' and a curse.

Encouraged by San’s noises, Woo bobbed back and forth, bracing himself on San’s hips. Wooyoung couldn’t fit all of San’s length, but he did his best to take him deeper, throat relaxing. He sucked around him for a minute, tongue adding a mix of pressures and rhythms before pulling almost all the way back to the crest of San’s head. He focused his energy there, tongue snaking around it repeatedly. Finally, he let his teeth graze the edge ever so slightly.

San lost control. Forgetting to be gentle he fisted Woo’s hair and fucked into his mouth. 

If San hadn’t been filling the room with a string of ‘baby’s and ‘so-good’s and ‘oh-what-I’m-gonna-do-to-you-later’s’, they might have realized someone was turning the knob of the door they had forgotten to lock.

The door flew open and there stood a very colorful, very disgusted Kang Yeosang, backing away to the tune of San ejaculating into Wooyoung’s drooling mouth. 

.:.:.:.

Jung Wooyoung had finally found more than just cheek kisses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed Cheek Kisses! This is the first piece I've ever written and it's been a blast. I know you might've wanted harder smut in the last chapter but I'm saving it for future fics. Come visit again ;)
> 
> Thoughts? Feelings? Come tell me on Twitter [@wooingsan](https://twitter.com/wooingsan).  
> (The AU is also cross-posted there, with pictures interspersed!)
> 
> Ciao, darlings~


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